


i'm so furious at you (for making me feel this way)

by Jace_Diaz_Of_Hell



Category: Final Space (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, but its still cute, this... isnt as good as i want it to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22621864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jace_Diaz_Of_Hell/pseuds/Jace_Diaz_Of_Hell
Summary: Nebula realizes some things.
Relationships: - mentioned - Relationship, Original Character/ Original Character, Quinn Airgone/Avocato/Gary Goodspeed
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	i'm so furious at you (for making me feel this way)

**Author's Note:**

> song title taken from taylor swifts "gorgeous".
> 
> i'm sick right now and i'm not sure if i quite have a handle on pepurr's character, so this isn't as good as i'd like it to be, but it's still cute!

Pepurr is a  _ brat. _

It’s such a juvenile way to put it, but it’s the only term Nebula really has for him. He thinks she’s a puzzle he needs to piece together after she out and out told him the truth. He’s rude sometimes. Ever since he put two and two together and figured out she was an ex bounty-hunter he’s constantly making references to it, in situations where she’s just antsy enough it throws her off guard.

Like now.

“Seriously?” He asks. “You used to hunt criminals for a living and now you’re scared about a  _ crowd?”  _

“Shut up.” She hisses, heart pounding as she takes a few deep breaths. “It’s a huge crowd.”

“I repeat.” He says dryly, “ _ Dangerous criminals  _ are less scary than crowds?”

“At least with criminals-” Nebula begins, almost snapping.

Pixie shouts her name and the crowd starts screaming. Pepurr moves off to the side.

“Break a leg.” He says, and Nebula grins, takes one last deep breath.

“Already did that, thanks.” She says, before she runs out onto the stage. Pepurr’s surprised laughter follows her, and she doesn’t quite know why her breathing suddenly gets easier, why her heart feels just a little lighter. 

* * *

Her leg is  _ aching.  _ It almost makes her wonder if it didn’t heal quite right, but the thought of it needing to be rebroken is enough for her to shut that mental path down. It’s fine. She just needs to build her strength back up from where it was. 

She waits long enough until after the other people in her group leave before she rolls up the hem of her pants, putting her brace on and tightening it. Then she gets up and heads to the door, pulling it open. 

Pepurr is waiting behind it, his paw half raised to the doorknob. He drops it when he sees her, looking a little sheepish. 

“You really need to stop hanging back.” He says, and Nebula rolls her eyes, stepping out when he lets her back. “Cause one of these days you’re gonna get snatched again.”

“I was putting my brace on.” Nebula replies, pushing her hair back and rummaging around in her pockets for a scrunchie before remembering there’s one on her wrist. “I overdid it tonight.”

“Yeah, all of you were in high gear.”

His tone is so dry she doesn’t know if he’s being sarcastic or if its just his typical pop star disdain. Regardless of whether he means it or not, she takes a step and her leg buckles underneath her, accentuating her point. She drops to the pavement-

Or she would, if Pepurr didn’t catch her arm and keep her upright.

He pulls her back to her feet and she shifts slightly, making sure she’s balanced before she slides her arm out of his grip, her hand resting in his for just a moment before she lets it drop. 

“Thanks.” She says, feeling just a little awkward and not sure why. For just a moment, Pepurr is a little softer towards her.

“You gonna be okay?” He asks, and she nods. “Okay. Get some  _ rest,  _ Princess, you look dead on your feet.”

“I will,” She answers after a moment, and wonders what to say. “... You too. Keeping all the creeps away must be tough work.”

The fragile, tender moment is broken as he rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, right. I could stay up all night if I wanted to and it still wouldn’t be a challenge.”

* * *

She’s got a weeks break before the next time she has to be back at the hotel for a show. On the first day she stayed holed up in her apartment, watching some old show she’s convinced her dad would have loved. 

The second day she sits on her bed and records a longwinded video and sends it to her parents, because after her kidnapping her father made her promise to work better to stay in touch. She rambles on about how the shows are going, complains about her stage manager. She mentions Pepurr briefly so her father knows they’re taking her security seriously.

“He called me out on being a former bounty hunter,” She says lightly, “but he didn’t believe me when I told him about you guys. It’s honestly really funny.”

Then she thinks about his laugh, and she blushes for a moment without knowing why before she shakes it out of her head. She asks how everyone is doing, tells them she misses them (because she  _ does,  _ despite what they might think), and begs them to stay safe.

When that’s over, she plays her guitar for a while, humming softly and trying to come up with more lyrics. She ends up just singing an old George Strait song. And then she misses her dad and needs to stop, because they always used to swing dance together whenever country music played. 

On the third day, she goes shopping. There’s only so long she can subsist on cereal and ordering in, and cooking will help her fill some of the extra time. 

She’s probably a little more extra than she needs to be, stuffing all of her hair into the dark green hoodie and putting on a pair of sunglasses before getting a ride, but she’s just not in the mood to get mobbed by the press or by fans. 

So she goes to the nearest supermarket, and loads up on food, including a giant bag of mint M & M’s because chocolate is definitely a necessity. 

She’s loading cookies into her cart when she hears him. 

“Didn’t think you were the type to do your own shopping,  _ princess. _ ”

“Fuck!” She yelps, and drops the thing of Chips Ahoy. “God, Pepurr, don’t  _ scare  _ me like that.”

“Use those bounty hunter reflexes of yours and you won’t be scared.” He shoots back, and she rolls her eyes. 

“I’m going  _ grocery shopping,  _ not hunting.” She says, her tone far more annoyed than she actually feels. “Besides that, I have kinda shitty reflexes most of the time.”

“I can tell that.” He says, smirking when she scowls at him. “Seriously, though. Junk food? Didn’t think you were the type.”

“What the managers don’t know won’t hurt ‘em.” Nebula says loftily, rewarded when he snorts. “Besides that, chocolate is my weakness.”

He tags along for the rest of the trip, making sarcastic commentary and bantering with her. She’s laughing when she’s answering him, and her face feels all warm even when her hood falls off and people start freaking out, so he has to make sure they don’t bombard her and- oh.

_ Oh. Shit.  _

She has a crush on the fucking bodyguard. 

She tells him she owes him a meal or something sometime, thanks him for helping her get back to the taxi okay. 

When she gets home, she unloads her groceries in a daze. 

Then she turns on her little old hovercam.

  
“ _ Mom,”  _ She whines into the camera, “feelings are  _ stupid.” _


End file.
